


Souvenirs

by DearTimekeeper



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearTimekeeper/pseuds/DearTimekeeper
Summary: It would be so much easier on both of them to brush this off as another one of his careless blunders. To accept the apology he wasn't giving out loud. Then she wouldn't have to keep questioning herself about her place in his life.





	

It was a very thin string

that held us together.

Broken glass and shattered windows

slowly cutting it away.

You begged distance

to be merciful

and when I gave more forgiveness

you drifted further into empty arms.

 

Rose knew that one smile from her would allow them to move on. And with his pleading eyes wide and grin firmly placed on his face she was tempted.

 They could forget everything that happened and move on as they always had; ignore the problem. Ignore the fact that he had left, that the doubts she had about this new body were right. He was not her doctor. Not anymore. But then why was he looking at her like that? Like she could shatter his hearts with just one word. Maybe he was just desperate for her to forgive him, because he knew. She could see it in his eyes that he knew what he’d done wrong. He knew exactly what his actions had caused. He could probably see it easily in her eyes as well. She had never been good at hiding things from him, but then again, she had never wanted to hide things from him. His eyes held worry, sadness, and a bit of hope.

No matter if they were blue or brown Rose could always see beyond that wall he kept trying to place between them. Only, his efforts as of late had become much stronger. Now she wasn’t sure if she could keep running away from all the complications in their…friendship. Sooner or later they’d catch up to them. They’d trip and fall and hurt themselves and it would be much more difficult to move on then.

Did she want to forgive him? Yes. More than anything she wanted to move on and be like before. Without these worries that now continuously plagued her mind and the focus being on just the two of them having fun and saving the universe, one adventure at a time.

Could she forgive him? Just mere hours after he’d left her abandoned on a spaceship? No. Rose tried to make sense of the tumultuous emotions ready to burst from her chest, but she realized that more than anything she just felt tired. So no, she did not want the Doctor to make her a cuppa and speed off into the next adventure. She couldn’t, no matter how much she wished she could because it would be easier.

It would be so much easier on both of them to brush this off as another one of his careless blunders. To accept the apology he wasn’t giving out loud. Then she wouldn’t have to keep questioning herself about her place in his life. The place that, after meeting Sarah Jane, after having her eyes opened to just how many people the Doctor met in his long life, after seeing him dash off with Madam De Pompadour, seemed ridiculously more insignificant. 

She was tired of ignoring his missteps. She was tired of smiling at him when all she wanted was to yell at him and make him talk to her. She was tired of being made to feel second best and then pushing it so deep inside herself in order to make him happy. Rose had always been a bit selfish, but when it came to him she always gave him every bit of herself, and it was exhausting.

So she didn’t smile back at him, although his eyes were begging her to let it go. She couldn’t. Instead she took a deep breath and dropped her gaze from his, unable to look him in the eyes any longer.

“I’m tired,” she said, her voice flat and drained. She rubbed her forehead with her hand, trying to get it to stop shaking. Giving it something to do so he wouldn’t notice how much truth was behind that statement.

“I’m going to bed,” she muttered, then she turned and walked away.

She couldn’t look at him, not right now. He had ignored her when she was willing to forgive him, when she could have forgiven him so easily. He had sat mourning the loss of his precious Reinette, unable or perhaps unwilling to confide in her as he used to. She wasn’t angry or bitter about the French courtesan, not really. She was just hurt. She had held onto a shred of hope that he was still her doctor. That the mocking voices haunting her sleep, telling her she wasn’t wanted, were just old insecurities that he’d quickly do away with, as he had before, back when he wore leather.

There had been other moments when Rose had been unsure as to why the Doctor kept her around and he had always done away with her worries. He would smile at her so widely every morning when she’d walk into the console room that she’d immediately stop doubting. He had always wanted her by his side. When she had brought Adam along, that had been reinforced by his rather possessive attitude. When Jack had come along with them he’d hold onto her just a little bit tighter, just a little bit longer.

Whenever she’d had doubts before, he was the first one to dispel them. But what did she do now? Now that he was the one to bring these doubts and insecurities out? Now that his voice was the one mocking her in her head?

Rose reached her door and slowly pushed it open, not stepping inside. As she looked around she wondered how her life had gotten to this point. She was madly and ridiculously in love with an alien. She lived in his magnificent time and spaceship that had so quickly turned into her home, and now…at that point in time, at that very second, she felt like a complete stranger wandering unknown grounds. It was a feeling of emptiness that engulfed her. From the middle of her chest it spread outwards, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to feel something other than that dreadful feeling of realization.

She leaned against her doorway and crossed her arms, looking at the pictures she had taped to her mirror and the ones in frames next to her bed. They were all taken after she met the Doctor and in them she was smiling so widely it hurt to look at. Rose wanted that happiness back. She wanted that ignorance of just how different her forever and the Doctor’s forever where. She just wanted to be the girl that was so madly in love that she ignored all the logical flaws that were bound to shatter that bubble of happiness.

Rose was tired. And she wondered, if the Doctor would ever get tired of pushing her away.

“Rose,” the Doctor’s voice was hesitant, unsure and Rose stiffened against her doorframe. When she turned to look at him the slight smile on his face slipped off.

She wondered what he saw when he looked her. Now that things were different. Because they were, different that is. So very different than to what they had been when he’d first regenerated. Even different than to how things had been that morning. She now understood just how her short life fit into the Doctor’s life. She was a ‘for now.’ To him she would never be a forever. And she finally let that truth sink in. She finally realized that this life with him, no matter how magical and everlasting it had seemed, was also a ‘for now.’ And it hurt.

She wondered if he saw that when he looked at her. The hurt that was causing her to shut him out. Did he see that she was drifting away from him. She knew it was what he wanted to some extent, for her to never push anything, to follow his lead and distance herself when he wanted her to, and come closer when he craved it. But she wasn’t letting him this time. Now she was the one in control of the distance between them.

She was tempted, by the vulnerable look in his eyes, to hurt him like he’d hurt her. To punish him.

“Rose,” he said again, his face serious, “are you alright?” She saw the concern on his face as he stepped closer. She turned back, looking around her room again.

“I’m always alright,” she murmured and had to restrain herself from looking at him when she heard him suck in a sharp breath. She felt guilty as soon as she said it, because the words that came out had hurt him, and she wasn’t sure if it was a conscious effort on her part. He was quiet a moment longer before she felt him get closer, looking into her room as well.

“Is there something wrong with your room?” he asked, his voice a bit colder than it had been before and she almost smirked. She was a bit surprised that he stayed, rather than just walk away as he tended to. She wanted him to react, maybe to yell, she wanted something from him, instead of his stoic mask and responses that brushed her off.

Rose leaned her head to the side, her eyes wandering over everything she had accumulated during her time with him.

“I was just remembering,” she shifted slightly, angling her body towards his, “I’ve got a lot of souvenirs I’ve collected with you. Lots of memories of all the fun we’ve had.”

She wanted to ask him, if she should start packing them up now so it’d be easier for her when she had to leave. She wanted to ask if she should start dropping things off at her mum’s so she wouldn’t have to carry so many bags when the time came. So she was bitter, she had a right to be. She took a deep breath to calm down.

A part of her wondered just how angry he’d get. Would he leave her at her mum’s if she brought it all up now, when he was the most vulnerable. She knew she’d never leave, not willingly, but if he told her to…well maybe it’d be for the best.

He must have heard something in her voice, maybe the wistfulness that permeated her being as she looked at everything in her room, like someone saying goodbye.

“Well, there are more memories to be had,” he said, his nervous voice made her look up.

It was that earnest look again, that one begging her to take the hint and forgive him. She tried for a smile, but she was sure it came out as more of a grimace.

“Yea, more memories,” she said, not sounding convinced. She looked closely, examining this new face that she wasn’t yet completely familiar with; the nose, the mouth, the freckles. She met his eyes after a while and was hit with a sudden strong longing for icy blue ones instead. Her face crumpled and the tears she hadn’t yet shed suddenly burst out. She tried to cover her face with her hands before he could see, but the look of shock that overcame his features told her she was too late.

He tried to wrap his arms around her, to pull her into a hug and comfort her but she pulled away from his hands and wiped her eyes in frustration.

“Don’t,” she got out, her voice cracking and her eyes flashing in anger. Rose wanted other arms to hold her. She wanted someone else’s comfort, but he was gone, replaced by him.

He recoiled as if she’d hit him and again she was overcome by guilt.

He had said before that he was the Doctor. He had his memories after all so he must be. And didn’t that just hurt, that her Doctor was causing her this pain. That her Doctor had turned into this man that no longer wanted her like before. That no longer needed her like before. 

“Please, Rose,” he said, “It’s not just what happened today that’s bothering you.” His concerned tone irked her because he was still so bloody calm, so detached from the situation.

She laughed in disbelief, a cold laugh that cut away at the Doctor’s calm composure. Rose had never laughed like that before. It sounded wrong to his ears. 

“No, it’s not just what happened today,” she mocked a scowl forming on her face, “You are incredible. I can’t believe how long it’s taken me to get this through my thick head!” 

“Get what, Rose?” he was wary, now that she had succumb to the anger he had seen building up inside her.

She took a deep breath and let it out, shutting her eyes as she leaned against her door again, shaking her head slightly.

“I understand that,” she paused trying to get everything out now so that they’d be on the same page, “You’re different,” she finished in a resigned tone, “and I’m different. And we’re too different.” She finally looked up not bothering to hide her tears anymore.

The Doctor opened his mouth, trying to come up with something to say, but he was frozen by the heartbroken look on her face.

“I get it,” she smiled, her bottom lip trembling with the effort, “And I hate it,” she laughed quietly, “I’m angry about it and bitter but I understand and I’ll move on with my life. So you can stop trying to put more distance between us because I hate being left behind. I hate it.” She didn’t let him look away, her determined and sad eyes held him trapped. “I’ll stop it okay?”

“Stop what?” he finally managed to choke out. He hadn’t expected this to be the conversation it had become. He felt lost.

“I’ll stop treating you like you’re him,” she said, more tears falling. The Doctor wanted to wipe them off her cheeks. He hated it when she cried, but his actions had been the catalyst for this, hadn’t they. He was to blame for this. And he was still so confused as to what Rose was talking about.

“Treating me like I’m who?” his voice rose in pitch, a bit of desperation leaking out.

“Like you’re my,” she cut off and swallowed back a sob, “like you’re my leather Doctor.” She squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her arms around herself, “Because you’re not anymore and I have to accept that. And I will! You don’t have to leave me on a spaceship to get the message across anymore.” She ended, her eyes accusing him.

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to make sense of everything she was saying. Trying to figure out where to start addressing everything.

There were many responses that came to him. As well as many questions. The doubt she had was not new but he thought that they had gotten past it. She had seemed so wiling to accept him. She had seemed to have understood regeneration once he’d explained it.

There was a lot he wanted to tell her but what he was able to choke out was, “I am him.”

She smiled at him, as if he was missing the bigger picture. 

“You are to an extent,” she said softly, as if explaining it to a child, “But you’re different. The things you liked before aren’t the same. Yes, the big things are I get that. You still want to save people, you still love traveling and the adventures and doing good, but,” her voice cracked and she looked away, wiping the tears away with her sleeve. She shook her head slightly trying to find a way to make him understand what she was feeling. “You treat me different.” She tilted her head towards him but her eyes stayed staring out into nothing.

“I feel like you’re a complete stranger sometimes,” she whispered, as though she were confessing a crime, “It was fine at the beginning, we were fine before…but then it got worse.”

“Before what? What got worse?” he interrupted now desperate to have her stop talking in that empty tone. That tone that was so un-Rose-like. A part him knew what she was getting at, but he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. Her eyes finally met his and he had to stop himself from taking a step back.

“Before we were reminded,” she paused, “I’m human. I’ll wither and die,” her gaze was cold and her tone was steady. “We forgot for a while. We ignored it. And then we were reminded and it was too much for you.”

“Stop.” He warned, his posture now deathly still and his jaw clenched.

“Before you changed my being human was never reason enough to leave me stranded in space. You would have never left me behind before,” her tears fell steadily now. 

“I had to,” he said forcefully, trying to get her to understand, “I had to or time would have unraveled. She needed to be saved and I had to leave to do so!”

“You know there were other ways,” Rose finally came closer to him, taking a step away from the doorframe and dropping her arms at her side, “You know.” She didn’t look away from him, even as he started shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know who you’re trying to convince anymore.” 

“Rose,” he wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her that there was absolutely no other way he could have handled the situation. But she was right. He could have thought of something else. He could have come up with another plan that didn’t separate them. Instead he did what he always did best and ran away, leaving Rose behind. And she was right on another count as well. He had changed. Not like she was starting to believe, because he still…she was still Rose and he would always hesitate when given the choice between saving her or the universe. But he had been treating her differently and he wasn’t sure if he liked the man he had become if Rose looked at him like that.

She bent her head down, staring at the floor and away from him. 

“Will we really have more?” she asked, sounding small, defeated.

“More what?” he raised a hand towards her, unsure if his touch would be welcomed. She picked her head up and grabbed his hand in both of hers.

“More memories,” she said sadly, “More souvenirs to add to my collection,” again she was trying to smile at him, but it fell short. He knew what a real Rose Tyler smile was. He also knew what she was really asking. And it seemed like she was doubting him again.

“Yes,” he said earnestly, desperately,” we will. I promise we will.” Her hands tightened around his and he stepped closer to her, making sure her gaze didn’t leave his. He would be crying if he hadn’t had more than 900 years of heartbreak. Even so, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back tears if Rose didn’t stop crying. “Rose, I am so sorry.” His voice shook, “I am still him. I know I haven’t been acting it but everything I felt…deep in my hearts, it’s still there. What was important then, is still important now. Perhaps more…I…”

He trailed off and lifted her hands up to touch his chest, a hand over each heart. And he prayed to all the gods he could think of that she would understand what he couldn’t say, that she would forgive him because she was everything he couldn’t allow himself to have but everything he longed to keep forever. He lowered his forehead down to meet hers.

“Give me a chance, Rose. I won’t leave you behind again,” he whispered, “I can’t.”

Her hands pulled on the material of his shirt, “Please don’t ever do that again.”

He pulled her tight to his chest, wrapping her in his arms.

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll keep you with me,” he breathed into her hair.

The conversation had revealed more about both of them than what they both had intended, but maybe that was what they needed. She could forgive him. She wanted to forgive him, and she realized that she had already started to. He had apologized. A true apology. And she had seen in his eyes, the regret and the guilt. She could feel it in the way his arms trembled around her and the way he whispered her name into her hair. He meant it, that promise he made that he might not be able to keep.

But she hoped he could. For as long as her ‘for now’ allowed them both, she hoped she would spend that time with him.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoy it.


End file.
